Miss Bixley Lends a Hand

Miss Bixley smiled. It hadn't been easy, but she had finally gotten to the young man. She slowly stood back up straight, pulled her skirt back down, and turned to face him, an understanding smile on her face. "I made you a little excited, didn't I, Henry."

"Um, no, no, ma'am. No, really, it's fine. You didn't do anything."

"Now, Henry. Don't lie to your teacher. That could get you into a lot of trouble." Actually, what she was doing could get her into a lot of trouble. She strode across the office and sat down right next to him, thigh touching thigh. She reached around his shoulder and pulled him against her, against her breast.

He averted his eyes from her blouse, her exposed breasts, one of which was now pressing so wonderfully against him.

"Henry, if you got a boner that would have been all my fault, not yours. Now, let Miss Bixley see what happened," she said reassuringly as she reached over with her left hand to uncross his legs.

"Oh, Miss Bixley," Henry exclaimed, feeling so terribly embarrassed and ashamed. He had never revealed an erection to a teacher before, never would imagine doing so, and would certainly never imagine doing so to Miss Bixley. Goodness, that was something Barnie Fife would never have done to Thelma Lou. Imagine if he had?! It was just unthinkable, unspeakable.

"Oh my goodness," exclaimed Miss Bixley when it came into view. "You got really stiff and hard, didn't you Henry."

"I guess, ma'am," he reluctantly agreed. He covered himself with his hands. She got to see it, as she requested. She now knows the truth. She doesn't need to be further embarrassed by his shameless behavior, nor does he. He should now apologize and extricate himself before he got into further trouble.

But, Miss Bixley said, "Oh no, Henry, move your hands away. Let Miss Bixley see how stiff and hard you are."

He wasn't so sure that he would wait until he got home to masturbate. He might even do it in one of the bathroom stalls. Actually, now that he thought about it, his roommate would likely be there when he got back, so he would definitely need to do it in a bathroom stall. He pulled his hands away to let her again see his shameful erection.

Miss Bixley reached out with her left hand and lightly traced the tips of her fingers around and around the round bulb formed by the head of his dick pressing so hard against the front of his slacks. "Henry, you shouldn't be embarrassed. This was really all my fault and I should probably take care of him. Goodness, we can't have you walking around campus with such a big hard stiff willy, can we?"

Henry really didn't know what to say. It all seemed so surreal. He certainly didn't want to say anything that might break this spell, or wake himself up if it was in fact a dream. He slowly shook his head.

"No, no, that would just not do, not do at all," she said absentmindedly, as she gazed upon the hard round bulb thrusting out his slacks, softly caressing the knob. She turned her face to look him in the eyes and removed her fingers from his cock to lightly touch his chin, turning his face to look at her, into her large chestnut eyes. "And, besides, won't this help you to get over her," she asked, as she returned her fingers to his knob, "so that you can concentrate on your studies."

He really wasn't sure that this would help him concentrate on his studies, but it would certainly go far in forgetting about what's-her-name. Actually, for a moment there he really couldn't recall her name. He did quickly recall that it was Sally, but once recalling her he didn't feel the sharp pain of her absence. There was something about a reassuring hand on your cock that heals many wounds. And, besides, he knew darned well that if Miss Bixley meant what he thought she meant, he would study for her next test harder than he had ever studied for a test before, and that was saying quite a lot."Yes, Miss Bixley," he agreed, with quite strong and sincere conviction.

Miss Bixley smiled, "Oh, that makes me feel so much better."

She shifted away from him but only to get up off the couch to stand in front of him, so that she could undress for the young man.

She smiled down at him as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. "Henry?"

"Yes, Miss Bixley?"

"Why don't you take your penis out and show it to Miss Bixley as she undresses for you."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. This really had to be a dream but he knew it wasn't. He just hoped that he wouldn't ejaculate before she got her clothes off. He would just have to be careful not to touch it once it was out. It wouldn't cum with nobody touching it, would it? It certainly hadn't before. He undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, and reached into his boxers to extract his hard dick, which sprung into the brightly lighted and heavily perfumed office like a starved snake.

"Oh my, yes, yes, he is a very handsome one, isn't he," Miss Bixley purred, getting to her final button. Once it was undone she pulled the tails of the blouse from her skirt and her arms from its sleeves, and then let it fall to the floor. She stood before him wearing only her skirt, heels, and brassiere, and it was such a lovely, sexy brassiere. He wasn't actually seeing much more than he had already seen, the blouse had been so transparent, but the fact that the blouse was no longer there, the fact that the sweet, seemingly innocent Miss Bixley had removed her blouse, was a qualitatively powerful increase in provocative allure. And, a brassiere is such a very wonderful way to present a woman's breasts. The shape is perfect: so round; and the femininity so powerfully evident: the seductive enticement of the flowered cotton and lace. He so much wanted to grab hold of his cock.

Henry had never wanted to touch, to hold, to kiss something more than he did at that moment. He instinctively moved his hand toward his cock but then he stopped, recalling his vow to control himself for as long as possible.

As Miss Bixley reached to the left side of her skirt, to unzip it, she said, "You can touch it, Henry, if you want. I won't mind."

"No, no, that's alright ma'am." He felt a little silly though, sitting there with his stiff dick poking out of his boxers and slacks.

"But, I want you to, Henry," she explained, as she slowly slid the zipper down, the room filling with the provocative metallic noise of a zipper slowly lowering, clothes becoming undone.

"Yes, Miss Bixley," he softly replied, grasping hold of his cock with his right hand, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his touch.

"There's something so wonderful, so pleasing, in seeing a man handle himself while you undress for him." Miss Bixley was very impressed with herself. She had never been this seductive with a man her age. It was so much easier to be this way with someone so much younger than her, with someone over whom she had authority, and control. "Stroke it, Henry," she softly instructed, "It makes me feel pretty."

What boy would deny Miss Bixley's interest in feeling prettier. If jerking off his cock would help with that, he would certainly very gladly do it. He slowly stroked his cock for his teacher.

"That's better, Henry. That's so much better," she said, as she let her skirt fall to the floor with her blouse, standing now before him in just her undies, nylons, garter belt, and heels.

Miss Bixley was a very petite woman, but she did have a very wonderful hourglass figure, with a very narrow waist and quite womanly curved hips. Plus, her flowery bikini panties clung to her curves as if their only purpose was to highlight and accent every sexy inch of her. The clinging was particularly tight and snug where Henry's eyes were most closely focused: her cunt. And, evident there was a most clearly outlined camel toe. Henry was actually seeing, staring at, ogling, Miss Bixley's camel toe, all of which was fringed and framed by her sexy thigh high nylons and garter belt, providing such a wonderfully provocative accouterment to her quite alluring ensemble. "Do you think I'm pretty, Henry?"

"Oh yes, Miss Bixley. Everybody says so."

Miss Bixley, without removing her heels, got down on her knees before the young man, spread open his legs, and inched her way in between his knees, his thighs. "Really Henry? They say that?"

"Oh yes, you're like the fantasy of every guy in the Andy Griffith Club."

Miss Bixley, of course, knew about that. She was well familiar with her striking resemblance to Thelma Lou, and at times even wore her auburn hair in a very similar short, wavy cut. Jesse, in her class, became particularly agitated whenever she did that. She had recognized her resemblance ever since she was young. She at times wondered if she was who she was now in part because of whom she appeared to be: the sweet, innocent looking girl from a small country town. But, she said, "Would Thelma Lou do this?" She bent over to take the boy's hard stiff cock into her mouth.

"Miss Bixley," he gasped, so thankful that he was able to last up until this point, up until the point that he felt the warm, wet mouth of the pretty Miss Bixley absorb his cock. He gasped again as he felt her soft, wet tongue make contact. No, he didn't think Thelma Lou would ever do this, would she?

Miss Bixley had never done this for a man before. She knew that someday she would do it, for her husband. But, it didn't seem dirty or slutty to do it now, for this innocent, pained, young man. After all, it was to help him get over his troubles, to better apply himself to his studies. She was doing this as his teacher not as his lover, which was perhaps really quite true, at least she didn't think of herself as his lover.

And, besides, she realized she kind of liked it. No, she really did like it. She liked the feel of the hard cock of a young man in her mouth, nurturing and nursing his hard masculine strength with her womanly lips and tongue, feeling and exploring his stiffness, and his softness, cleaning his bulb and shaft with her tongue, loving him like a mother cat would for her young.

"Miss Bixley," Henry groaned. He felt such an urge to grasp hold of his teacher's head with his hands, to pull her face roughly into his crotch and drive his hard dick farther into her mouth, down into her throat, perhaps even fuck her face like he so much now wanted to fuck her cunt. But, that would be really much too disrespectful and he instead just used his hands to grip tightly onto his knees while he gave himself over to the delicious sucking and slurping of Miss Bixley's mouth, lips, and tongue on his swollen, yearning dick.

"Mmmmmmmm," Miss Bixley moaned, enjoying so much the feel and taste of a cock in her mouth. She wondered what it would be like to have it between her legs, between her thighs, inside her cunnie. She grasped hold of the shaft with her right hand and began to stroke it up and down as she suckled on the head like a desperately hungry baby on her mother's giant teat.

"Oh geeeeeez," groaned Henry, bending forward in excruciatingly, deliriously maddening ecstacy.

Miss Bixley suddenly released his cock from her mouth, but only to exclaim, with a string of spittle still connecting her lips to his dick, "I want to taste you, Henry." Her sweet chestnut eyes plaintively pleading, "I want to drink and swallow it," and then she plunged her face, her mouth, back down onto his cock, squeezing and jerking the shaft at the same time.

Taking a man's cum in her mouth was again something she had not yet done, but at the moment she felt so desperately the need to taste, to drink, to swallow a man's seed. Only days ago she had not imagined ever doing such a thing, or at least had only done such things in her dreams, her disturbing dreams. But, now, as a teacher, she could do it, and she so much wanted to.

She didn't have to wait long. Once her lips made contact again Henry exploded into her mouth, "Miss Bixley," he gasped as he felt his head, his mind, become faint, his entire body absorbed by a primal rush of base pleasure, his dick twitching and squirting into Miss Bixley's mouth.

"Mmmmmm," she groaned as she felt his cock jerking and spitting its gism onto her tongue, against her cheeks, spewing its load in all corners and crevices of her mouth, his globs and wads of cum rapidly filling up her mouth, stuffing her cheeks, squeezing under gums, oozing from her lips.

She shifted her tongue out of the way to make room deeper into the back of her mouth, receiving next a few direct blasts deep inside, his hose gushing a torrent of gism against her throat, but then instantly finding that too difficult to handle, feeling the urge to gag and cough as more and more jerked and spit inside. Her mouth quickly filled, the corners of her cheeks, beneath her tongue, the roof of her tongue thoroughly globbed over. But she didn't mind. It just felt so nice, and tasted so much better than she would have ever imagined.

When he was done she carefully pulled her mouth away, keeping her lips firmly closed so as to not spill any drops onto his slacks. It was perhaps a bit too late, as some of it had already squeezed out from between her lips when she was receiving the gushing blasts of cream. She looked up into Henry's eyes, her own chestnut eyes a bit misty with excitement, with arousal, as well as with her effort to inhibit her instinctive reaction to cough and gag at the thick gism clogging her throat. "Youth be gth boyth anth thst hth?"

"What?" Henry responded. He couldn't understand a word she was saying, and might not have even if her mouth wasn't filled with sticky, sloppy, viscous cum, as his own mind was lost in the bliss of his climax.

Miss Bixley worked to swallow more of it, and to shift the rest into a location of her mouth that wouldn't interfere so much with her speech. "You'll be a gooth boy and stuthy hard?"

It still wasn't perfect but she was now at least intelligible.

"I'll get the highest grade in the class, Miss Bixley."

She smiled. He might indeed do that, but she knew that Ralph would give him a run for his money.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Miss Bixley's experience with Teddy (see "Teddy has a hard day") had led to her experience with Ralph, which in turn provided the foundation for Henry, and her experience with Henry now drove her to consider even more adventure. In fact, it was Henry's reference to the Andy Griffith Club that gave Miss Bixley an idea.

Jesse Haywood, a member of the Andy Griffith Club, was one of her better students in the class. She had wondered if he was enrolled only because she was the instructor. She was forever catching him looking at her bottom when she was writing on the board, and stealing glances at her legs or her breasts when she was lecturing the class. But, if that's what it took for him to learn romantic literature, why would she complain?

In fact, she decided to give Henry and Ralph some competition on the last test. She asked to speak to Jesse after class.

"Well, sure, Miss Bixley, I'd love to!" His unadulterated enthusiasm was really quite striking.

After all of the other students had gone (Ralph was the last to leave, and looking rather jealous over his shoulder at Jesse as he departed), Miss Bixley explained, "Jesse, you have been getting some of the best grades in the class."

"I've tried awfully hard, Miss Bixley."

"Yes, I know that, son, and I think it's just wonderful."

"Is there some special, extra assignments you want me to do?"

"No, no, that's not it."

"Do you need like a teaching assistant, or something?"

"No, no, that's not it either."

"Well, maybe like just cleaning up around your office, or after class, or something?"

"No, no, Jesse, it's not like any one of those things at all. In fact, it's really quite different. You're a member of that Andy Griffith Club, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he softly replied. Jesse felt a moment of panic. Was she going to talk to him about the secret pictures of her he had taken? A number of times in the class he had taken pictures of Miss Bixley with his cell phone, unbeknownst to her. They weren't inappropriate, lewd, or obscene pictures. Not by any means. They were just attractive shots of her while she was teaching the class. Admittedly, he had tried to get an up-skirt picture a couple of times, but she wore such long tight dresses that it was essentially impossible, particularly if he didn't want to get caught. The only really suggestive pictures were of Mss Bixley bent over while she was working or studying something on her desk, and even these were not at all revealing. Her bottom though was nicely outlined by her tight skirt.

Jesse's only intention was to get some flattering pictures for his friends in the club. He took a deep breath, waiting for her to scold him for his rude and impertinent misbehavior. Maybe he would get a spanking? That wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps he should suggest it if she felt he should be punished. Imagine getting spanked by Thelma Lou!

"Jesse, I've been giving boys extra special rewards in class for doing good work."

Well, he was very jealous to hear about that, given that he had gotten an 'A' on every test so far and had always studied real, real hard. He would think he would be among the first to get a reward. "Who has gotten rewards?"

"Well, that doesn't really matter. I just want you to know that I want to give you a reward as well for all of your hard work and success in this class."

"Wow, that would be great!" He had no idea what it could be. Perhaps it was a cool picture of her. Well, that would be ridiculous. Actually, what rewards could a teacher give a student who was already getting an A in the class? A gold star? He's a little old for that. A pair of her panties would be nice but, again, that was rather absurd, even to joke about.

"Yes, well, what I would like to do is to host one of your little meetings, at my home."

Jesse's eyes lit up. "You mean it? Really?!"

"Yes, certainly. You can all come over to my house, and I will even have some snacks."

"This is great!"

"Yes, but only the boys in the club."

"There aren't any girls in the club."

"Oh...well, then, alright. Everybody can come over."

Jesse furrowed his brow. Why would she only let boys come over? That did seem a bit odd, to say the least. But, then, who was he to say what was odd. After all, he was the one in the Andy Griffith Club.

"Will tomorrow night be fine, let's say 7:30?"

"Sure!" He wasn't at all sure it would be fine for the other members of the club, but he knew full well that they would all cancel whatever plans they had for this.

"How many guests then will there be?"

Jesse answered quietly, "Three."

"Three?" She had assumed that a college student club would be much larger than that, by far. "Just three?"

"Yes, ma'am, just three, counting myself," he reluctantly admitted. Jesse was a bit embarrassed. The existence of the club was in fact a bit of an embarrassment for its members, at times. Other students would make fun of them. After all, who would be obsessed with a television show whose last season was just over fifty years ago. The membership had been much higher in the early days of the club, but the novelty soon wore off, the meetings became rather repetitive, and some of the members experienced a good deal of teasing. Only three persons remained. Well, a meeting at Miss Bixley's home would certainly be reinvigorating for club spirit!

"Well, at least the snacks won't be difficult to prepare," she teased. "Why don't you give me their names, so I will know who is coming and I'll expect you and your friends over at 7:30, tomorrow night." She needed their names to check something before she prepared for their visit.

"Great! Yea, sure!"

Miss Bixley was about to turn to leave but then asked Jesse, "Actually, what exactly do you boys do at one of your meetings?"